Foot Note (A Stalia Story)
by EffyR3D
Summary: "You will never sleep alone..." Thoughts come back, and haunt Stiles leaving his mind burning. Memories come back,and taunt Malia leaving her body aching. After small moments of affection, one night she appears in his window with her hope dangling by a string. They share a foot note in each others happiness, sending them both on a wild adventure of Love, Jealousy and Loss
1. Chapter 1

**_Authors Note: This is my first fan-fiction, but not my first time writing for viewers. Please, comment and review! I love my readers! Share with you friends, and I also take suggestions as to what should happen in the story, because I have no full-proof plot. Just making it up as I go X3_**

"N-a-no! Malia, giv-give it to me!" Stiles quickly says, stuttering as Malia swiftly stuffs her face with a raw, bloody steak from a package they just purchased from the local grocery. She glares blankly at him, removing the bleeding slab of meat from her jaw placing it in Stiles' hands.

His eyebrows shoot up, at the uncooked and half-eaten steak placed within his hands,

"Yeah, _thank you_- thanks for that." He mumbles, slightly nodding his head repeatedly. He sets it back in the plastic container on the kitchen counter; wiping the excess juices, which had included Malias unnaturally large amount of saliva, on the sides of his dark blue jeans.

"Why did you take my food?" She huffed, her voice peaked.

"You aren't a coyote anymore—you cannot go around eating raw meat…" he pauses, quickly lifting the left corner of his lip in competition of self-debate. He wasn't sure what he wanted to say, and managed to stutter all the way. "Well…I guess you could but then everybody would fin-"he abruptly stops midsentence, flinging his slightly curled hands forward towards the pile of cow laying still on the kitchen counter, correcting his straying thoughts.

"Never mind, just…Don't go around eating raw meat…of any kind," he said, feeling the need to specify. "You'll get _sick_."

Stiles nods, somewhat sure of his sentence order. Malia suddenly steps forward her dark brown eyes gleaming up at Stiles' equally shaded eyes, gently grabbing the tips of his finger promptly followed holding his hand. His hand is _warm_ and calming and feels vaguely like home- her home, in the forest back when she was a Coyote. She felt addicted to this feeling, and it never ceased to send a wave of nostalgia through her body every time they shared a touch. Stiles gleamed, looking down at their intertwined fingers, her scent filling his lungs with sweetness. Her sight filling his head with something that can only be described as light—he wants to touch her. Wrap his hands around her waist, and glide his fingers along her skin…He needs to be close to her.

"Uhh…" his voice cracks ever so slightly, as words cannot seem to find their way through his throat.

"Let's go back upstairs." Malia quickly decides, releasing Stiles' from her grip. Her finger tips, sting as the surrounding cold returns.

"Ah…Yeah, yeah—upstairs….Upstairs is where we need to be. Upst- yeah."

He forces a stiles-signature smile, pushing his arm towards the stairs in a fit of awkwardness. Malias' feet clamp forward, one in front of the other as he follows her upstairs.

* * *

Scott guides Malia on how to control her newly accessed powers. He teaches her how to extend her claws and fangs with ease, along with flashing her coyote crystal blue eyes for flair.

Malia has a hint of difficulty with her claws, before Scotts 'Alpha intelligence' shows her how to release them without a lick of pain. She laughs, wide-eyed and swings her hand in Stiles' direction in an attempt to show him her success. The sharp claws fling by an alarming distance from his face, in reflex he shoots back onto the back—his heart rate jump spiking.

"Oops, I'm so sorry!" she quickly blurts out, unable to wipe off the glorious smirk across her face.

_Ding_

Stile's phone chimes, alerting him of an incoming call.

Lydia immediately starts speaking, obviously distressed about something. In this town, the chances are it's something supernatural. He chuckles quietly to himself, preparing for the incoming wave that is Lydia Martin.

"_Stiles. Scott didn't answer his phone. I __**heard**__ something."_

Stile's brow furrows, as he speaks cautiously. It hasn't even been two months since Allison's death, and the Nogitsunes reign of terror…And he was still weary of it all. He knew mentally that Scott didn't blame him for his part in their friend's death. But somewhere inside him, spoke differently. He was on the edge, trying to keep from slipping through the cracks of his faith.

"_Lydia, calm down. Now, tell me—what kind of something?"_

Lydia sarcastically replies, obviously annoyed and troubled.

"_What do you think!? A super-natural banshee something! You need to come over here, __**now."**_

The sound of her saying 'Super-natural Banshee' curves at the tip of her throat. Alarming her of just how messed up, and crazed her life really is.

Looking back, she had never thought she'd be involved in a supernatural war between Foxes, the notorious Werewolves, and the Were-Coyotes, and hell, every other Were-Related creature out there. With the way things were speeding along, she was almost positive there were several other species. And chances are, she'd be dragged into it all.

Stiles immediately jumps up from the bed, as Scott gestures to be cued in, oblivious to what just happened. Stiles hushes Scott, shooting him a look that clearly states _"Hang on, I'm dealing with it". _

Stiles quickly excuses himself, removing his presence from Scotts room.

Malia, glares towards Stiles with a strange and curious glance. She pushes her chestnut brown hair out from over her ear and listens in with her enhanced hearing.

Stiles: Yep, uh, yep. Okay. I'm coming. Don't worry, I'll be there soon.

Lydia: Just hurry…

Stiles: I am, I am. See you in twenty minutes, alright?

Lydia: Alright. See you then.

Stiles hangs up the phone, sliding it into his back pocket. He speeds along, back into Scotts room and clumsily grabs his tan-colored coat off of Scott's bed.

Malia huffed and flickered her eyes back and forth between the two males in the room. She wasn't pleased with Stiles actions. He was suppose to be her mate—they had performed an act of intimacy that night in the Eichen House...That was suppose to connect them on a emotional and physical level. But ever since it had happen, she felt like he wasn't as committed as he should be…She needed to fix that.

"Lydia—uh, she heard something. A _banshee_ something, I'm going over to see what happened."

"Okay, I'll come along" Scott nods, heading for the door frame before being cut off by Stiles mumbling.

"No, no. It's fine. I got this; you stay here with Malia and keep practicing. I-I'll call you and let you know, okay?"

Stiles leaves, after quickly slipping a hand on Malias back, whispering

"I'll be back, be careful"

Stiles takes off, she could feel the vibration in the floor as he rushes down the stairs. His scent slowly disappearing as he starts his Jeep and drives off leaving her alone once again.

Malia didn't like this, not in the slightest.

**_Authors Note: Alrighty! First chapter done! If I get some good reviews, it will motivate me to make chapters quicker, and longer if that's what you want! Yay! So review!_**

**_I also take suggestions! Because, the plot I have going on isn't good long-term. And I want a long story X3_**

**_Alright, my lovelies, thanks for reading!_**


	2. Chapter 2

_**Authors Note: It's 3:00am, and I just cannot sleep. So, I figured…This might help me relax. I wrote this chapter at last minute, because Awesome45 reminded me to do a jealousy bit. This whole thing is not necessary, but hell—I think I'll enjoy writing it as much as you'll enjoy reading it! At the end, I have a few responses to some of my reviews! Alright, enjoy!**_

She didn't like the way that her Mate interacted with the Strawberry Blonde. She'd left Scott back at his house—she'd lied and claimed she had to use to bathroom and climbed out the window. The second she felt her feet connect with the ground, she looked up with her animalistic eyes gleaming against the night. Her breath was ragged, as she tried her best to stay in control and focus on her objective, and anchor herself to her mate.

She closed her eyes, and started to steadily exhale. Everything around her began to slow down at an abnormal speed, and seem to light up almost similar to night vision.

"Stiles…" she breathed, and curled her fingers into her palms whilst searching for his scent.

'_Got it'_, she confirmed and bent over onto her fours and started sprinting. Everything was slow, and she was _fast—_she sprinted past cars, and even ran over sending them spiraling off into another direction.

Lydia was not going to take her mate. Malia wouldn't _allow_ it—in the woods you had to fight to survive and that meant warring over territory, and Stiles was her territory and sure as hell was worth fighting for.

She was there. In front of the girls house and it reeked of Stiles. Malia couldn't control herself, her claws were extended and her fangs piercing through her lips leaking small droplets of blood, while healing it at the same time.

She couldn't hear them.

She grabbed onto the edge of Lydia's house, and pulled herself up silently. A snarl slowly ripped its way through her throat.

Stiles was holding the girl…And the girl was curled into his embrace. And the girl was nestled into his neck, as his hand traveled up and down her back.

'No, no, _no!_'

She was a mess of unhappiness and denial, grabbing her sides and let out a horrific wail. All of her was lifted mentally, and suddenly she felt as light as air. Everything was blurred and red—the figures in the room were a mystified black fog—and they were staring at her.

"Mal-"

She couldn't make out the words of the figureless being.

Its hand reached out towards her, and in a fit of fright knocked it away with the tips of her enraged claws. The foggy structure was knocked back, and grasped its hand— liquid pouring out onto the floor as a distorted voice whimpered. Each breath she took turned into a snarl, her jaw knocked down as her beastly teeth cut into her lips.

She took off, leaping down off the window ceil and onto the now damp grass. She sprinted off the property as her mind lay blank, only to be promptly knocked onto her back.

She let out a challenging growl to the figure in front of her, rage coursing through her veins

All within the span of a second, a frightening and horrifying howl was spat in her face—knocking her back into reality.

It was her Alpha, Scott. His eyes glaring a murderous red, as his full-form was exposed, extended ears with feral teeth much larger than hers—his face morphed slightly as a hair trail lead slightly down the rim of his face.

Her eyes flickered back and forth, before hiding behind the brown coloring.

What had she done?

Her vision shoots to her surroundings, and had little idea what was happening. Not more than second later, it all comes running back to her…Running through the town looking for Stiles…Finding him, hugging the Banshee… Then—it slowly becomes a draw of blanks.

Scott stood, completely silent. A disapproving look on his face, as he looking at her; she followed his glare, and at the end of his trail was a puddle of blood covering her left hand, 'Where did this come from?' she thinks to herself.

She guides her hand to her nose, and tries to draw a scent…

'_Stiles'?'_ She murmured

'_This is his blood!'_ she spat to herself

Suddenly, Stiles and Lydia appear in the corner of Malias vision. Sitting on the wet ground, she turns her head and looks at the two. His left hand was hiding its opposite, cloaking it beneath to not point out the blood flow.

"What was _that_?!" Lydia called out, attempting to stay calm but failed miserably as she basically spat at the words.

"I lost control, I'm sorry!" She blurted out.

"Yeah, and that's why you shouldn't be in our pack! We can't have someone who can't control themselves!" Lydia said matter-of-factly

"I'm working on it!" Malia yelled, starting to get enraged

"Not hard enough, it appears." Lydia claimed, crossing her arms.

Malia snarled slightly, her eyes quickly flashing before turning her vision to Stiles—her injured mate.

"Di-Did I do that…?" She whimpered, looking at the blood draining down.

He nodded, and bit his lip, racing through his mind to find _something_ to say.

But Lydia had cut in,  
"Yes, you did. What the hell is your problem!? You cannot go around _slicing_ people!"

Stiles stood quiet, as Malia glared down at her feet ashamed of herself.

"I'm…sorry." She whispered. She was finally changing—_they _were finally changing.

"It's okay." He managed to say,

"Can I speak to Malia alone for a minute?" he requested, shooting a begging glance to both the Werewolf and the Banshee.

Lydia sighed, before waving off and walking back to her house while Scott started walking home.

"I'm sorry!" Malia apologized once they were alone. She had to make this right, no matter what it took. Her eyes were begging him to stay, as she began to race through thoughts fearing he'd leave and never think twice.

"Its fine" he assured her—she'd spent 8 years alone as a wild animal. He wanted it all, even if she let go—he just wanted her to throw away all of her doubts and trust him. Every time he saw her, he began to care more and more.

He didn't know she was at the window, as he was simply comforting Lydia, and trying to translate her Banshee voices into helpful advice. In a fit, she had started to cry at that time, he had consoled her and held her.

'_I can't do it!' the Banshee cried out, as she tried to focus in on the sounds._

'_Yes, you can…Just focus on something," he started, flinging his hands gesturing to anything and everything that surrounded her, "like that…!" _

_He grinned with satisfaction, as he picked up Lydia's small plush, cherry colored Rabbit off her dresser._

"_This!" he said, handing it too her. _

"_Stiles…This is a rabbit." She scoffed, with a slightly lightened grin._

"_But, it's pink. And it's a bunny and therefore it's cute, and girls like cute things", he mumbled on endlessly as he rubbed the back of his head._

"_Stiles?" her voice piqued_

"_Yeah?" He looked at her, as he plopped back onto the corner of her bed.  
"Shut up…" Lydia said, a small grin following._

"_Yeah, okay—alright." _

_She soothed her lungs, and started tapping her fingernails on her nightstand…It slowed, as the second her nails hit the night stand, a noise emitted…A screeching sound—but not like an animal, like somebody gliding to knives against each other_

"_-dia?" _

_She looked at him, but his voice was cornered off. The knives got loud, forcing her to cower at the deafening sound before disappearing completely. Her eyes were burning red as the next noise she made was a sob. _

"_Hey, what's wrong?" He said, his eyebrows shooting up._

_She looks at him, her bottom lip quivering. _

"_Hey, hey, it's okay…Don't—don't do that. Here." He grabs her, and holds her as she tries the best to hold back her tears. _

'_Why does this always happen?' her thoughts yell, maddened at her weak display_

_He rubs his hand up and down her back, cooing s soft comforts 'It's okay'._

"Don't just say its _fine_," she cried out, tears starting flow down her face. He couldn't say 'Its fine' because it wasn't. She lost control in a fit of rage, and had physically hurt him.

'It isn't okay!' she cried out to herself

He swiftly took her hands into his own, and looked her in the eyes and whispered, taking a breath between each word

"It…Is…Fine…"

"I was so scared," she swallowed a breath of air, "that I was going to _lose_ you…I just wanted you to be happy"

He gently shook his head, and pulled her into him and lovingly planted his lips onto hers. Her tear-stained lips slowly overpowered by his own. His heart was heating up, and yearning for something she could only provide. She filled him up, and steamed his thoughts.

He caressed her hair, and broke free from the contact. Her lily-golden skin burning naked and bright under the luminous night- Stiles pulled her close and slowly breathed her name.

"Malia… I am happy. Because—I'm a _foot note_ in your happiness…And, she could _never _compare to you—don't ever forget that…"

She started, but was cut off by the collision of their lips.

With him is the only place she could call home.

He was Home.

**Authors Note: Alright, alright. I don't like this chapter as much *cries* I feel like I could do better, but I also don't want to change anything! Forgive me! Because after this next chapter, I have a very, very special treat *grins* As for my reviews, here we go!**

_**Awesome45: I really like the meat bit too—I always have trouble starting stories and chapters but that one just sort of flowed naturally, haha. As for jealous Malia, it's not the last we'll see of her. I felt like I didn't have enough bickering, and no claws came out. I promise there will be more!**_

_**DelMarInterventions: I'll will update hopefully daily, because you asked :3 And you brought a literal smile to my face when you called it one of the best fanfics—thank you! :D**_

_**Byzinha Lestrange: I'm glad you like it! When I write and have like no inspiration I listen to music, and whatever is playing sets my tone XD So yeah, chances are the summary is about 3 song references combined into a small paragraph. Thanks for reading, and I've already got the next two chapters ready for viewing! I'll add daily! **_


	3. Chapter 3

_**Authors Note: Hey, before I start—thank you for all the reviews. I had a few people ask for more Scott and Kira, so I'll add more and more of them in each chapter. This one wasn't very hard to right, but I admit that I did falter back and forth quite pathetically. Anyways, I present to you Chapter 3!**_

* * *

"Hey, Kira" Scott uttered, jumping beside her in the hall way.

"Oh, hey—how is everything going?" Kira asked, shooting him a smile.

"Eh, you know how it is," he started, releasing a goofy smile "kicking some ass. You know werewolves and ancient, majorly _pissed_ off foxes alike." He shrugged gently, as if everything he just said was completely normal.

"Yeah, what a…_adventure_," she exclaimed, and stopped at her locker, starting to twirl in her combination.

"So," he started, looking down at his twitching fingers "I was wondering if this weekend you wanted to go out—get some pizza or something?"

Kira smiled, it was cute watching him fumble around.

"Yeah, I'd love that. Beats sushi again, right?" she playfully winked, and laughed as the almighty Alpha's faced burned bright pink at the memory of the _awkward_ family dinner, and the way he had eaten an entire bowl of wasabi sending him into a fit of discomfort and burning.

"Never going to live that down, are you?" he replied, as a smile consumed his face.

"_Nope_," she grinned "this weekend? Alright, let's do it."

He grinned, and kissed her cheek murmuring a quick 'thank you' before taking off down the hall to his next class.

* * *

The window was opened with an overly loud creek. Malia hissed at the sudden change of volume, and slipped within the dark room.

She stood still for a moment, listening to the sound of Stiles' hearts rhythm…

She swiftly slipped underneath his cover, instantly accompanied by his warmth. She slid against him, curling her arms up to her chest, and her feet tangled within his. His warmth caused her to lose all sense of time, to her—there was no sunrise and there would never be another night fall. There was only here and now, with him…

Stiles dream land consisted of the same dream over and over…He watched through a cage as another version of him inflicted irreparable damage. The blade he shifted into Scott, as the Nogitsune licked his own lips in ecstasy as he stole his pain—Scott crumbling before him. Then it switches, as in front him Alison mouth parted, and her voice broke. She could not even speak, because the sole sound she made was a crackled whimper… Everything turned slow, as his cloned body turned to run, but behind him he could feel his Pack sobbing and Scott falling to his knees begging, followed Lydia's horrific and mournful Banshee scream signaling another fallen friend. He could feel and see everything his other half did…he could feel the blood trickle down the blade as it's torn back and thrown onto the ground.

'**Alison**!' Lydia's voice _shrieked_, echoing through the underground walls as tears streamed down her face.

'_Wake up—wake up!'_ He screamed to himself, as he felt the Nogitsune chilling laugh.

His eyes gently shot open, his breathing unsteady, he turned over to witness Malia. He looked in her brown eyes, and whispered,

"_Hi_…"

"Hey…" She replied gently

"Are you okay…?" He asked, his voice surrounded by concern. She looked different somehow—not her normal self. He tried his best to wipe the fresh nightmare from his mind, but all he could is push it back until it decided to resurface in another vicious display.

"Yes…I'm just cold…" She said with a small shiver, looking down slightly ashamed. She couldn't tell him what was really wrong. Although they had shared such an intimate moment earlier, she couldn't shake her doubts. Her hope for a future was dangling, and she couldn't be more afraid.

"Oh…Well…Come here then" He said, his voice lighting up as much as it could in the middle of the night, and after his swaying nightmares. He pulled her into an embrace, and wrapped the blanket fiercely around the two. Within the confined space, he took her hands and pulled them above the covers—breathing his warm breath onto her knuckles, he then started to rub her quivering hands within his.

"Thank you…" She mumbled.

His touch sank within her skin; there was no escaping what he did to her. Her eyes slit shut, but never did her mind. All night, his touch roamed within her thoughts…

Stiles woke up first, to find Malia was peacefully draped out all over him. Her head was resting on his chest, while both arms were stretched over the side of the bed. Her feet were strangling his and could feel her breathing against him, a soft blaze as she stirred against constantly. He smirked, and dragged his finger tips through her hair, caressing her-storing this memory through every inch of his mind. He gently lifted her, and set her on the other side of his bed and murmuring adorations in her ear while wrapping their once-shared blanket over her.

Stiles stood up, and released a stretch before heading down stairs. His father was sitting at the table in the kitchen; a coffee in his left hand, and a newspaper in his right. He let out a small chuckle, as he read one of the illustrated comics.

"Morning…" Stilinski's, Stiles's father muttered, before rounding another sip of his coffee.

"Morning," Stiles motioned a wave, opening the kitchen cupboard. He withdrew a box of Fruit Loops and poured it into a bowl and started eating away.

His father didn't talk much in the mornings; he just drank his coffee and carried himself off to the station. They never really had all that much to talk about, apart from the Pack. But it confused his father too much to involve him. Just the other week he was convinced Stiles was withholding the Fountain of Youth, when an under-aged and just as grumpy Derek Hale had suddenly appeared. From there on out, everything was something. The next moth could be a fairy—the next howl a werewolf. Hell, the next coyote that roams around could be another naked child. Stilinski rubbed his temples, and let out a rather large yawn.

"I'm off, bud." He announced

"Alright, see you after work." Stiles muttered, scooping another bite out of his bowl.

"Ah, crap. Forgot my papers…" Stilinski said, and pulled himself upstairs. He walked into his office, and grabbed a bright yellow folder. On his way out, he noticed his son's door was open—out of good spirit he walked over and grabbed the handle and on the way of pulling it shut heard a groan emit from within the room.

Stilinski tilted his head, and debated whether or not he was just hearing things. He peeled his eyes, and gave the door a small push.

He froze, staring at the sight before him.

_**"Stiles!"**_

His father voice boomed through the house, causing Stiles to drop his bowl onto the floor and nearly chook on an especially fruity loop. A sick feeling in the pit of his stomach had taken over. Simultaneously, Malia jolted up in bed and looked around rapidly—her eyes crystal blue as she expressed her sudden fright. She grabbed her chest, and released rabid breaths her eyes returning to their normal brown.

"Scared me half to _death_…" she mumbled, trying to regain her breath. She was oblivious to the fact that sleeping in someone else bed is frowned upon. She had no idea why he was wide-eyed and silent when he looked at her

'Did I shift?' she says, narrowing her eyes to her hands.

'Nope…' she thought, popping the 'P'.

She looked up back at him, tilting her head. She shifted her legs, shrugged her shoulders and simply waved at the Sheriff much to his confusion all he could manage to do was wave back.

Stiles nearly tripped as he scurried up the stairs, he grabbed the corner on the wall and slide half the way in his socks. His father was standing there, with an unreadable look.

"My office_, now_."

Stiles nodded and held up his index finger mouthing '_one minute'_ - Stilinski mouthed back '_Fine_.'

Stiles walked into his room, and sat down on the bed right next the confused Coyote Girl.

"Did I do something wrong?" She asked.

"No, no. You did nothing wrong." He responded, and shook his head with a smirk.

"Good…" she giggled, and planted a kiss on his cheek.

He smiled, and dusted himself off and left the room. He didn't know why, or what made him so comfortable around her—he had always stuttered around girls or managed to do something very stupid and embarrassing.

One time, in the 8th grade, he and Scott were eating lunch in the cafeteria, and Scott had murmured in his ear

"_Hey, check it out. Mary is eyeing you…" _

_Stiles' eyes instantly widened, as he took a too big bit of his red apple from his tray. He tried smiling at her, and she suddenly let out a small giggle. _

'_Did she just giggle at me?' he asked himself, and let a goofy laugh…Spitting out the chunk of apple all across the lunch table, apart from the apple skin that was stuck in-between his teeth. _

_He froze, and Scott busted out laughing, and slapped his shoulder blurting out, "Nice one, dude."_

_Stiles mustered the courage to look back up, past the apple mess and she wasn't there anymore. She'd moved to a different table._

'_Nice…" he said, chastising himself as Scott fell onto the floor grabbing his sides._

'_Nice…"  
_

Stiles knocked on the door, before opening it. His father was standing there, against his desk—motioning for his son to close the door.

The second he shut the door, he winced as he felt contact…

His father had _hugged_ him, and started to speak too fast for him to understand.

"I know I should be yelling at you—and it is really irresponsible! But a girl, Stiles! That's a living breathing girl in your room!"

His father's grin was frightening, '_A living breathing girl?_' he mumbled to himself _'As opposed to what?'_

His father quickly corrected his posture, turning into the parental figure.

"With that aside," he cleared his throat "that is very irresponsible, and you are not allowed to have a girl overnight without telling me." Stilinski nodded to himself, happy with the way he held himself.

"And…" he walked behind his desk, and opened the bottom left drawer pulling out a box of rubbers.

"No—no, dad no…We're no-"

"Take it. I insist"

"But we're not doing _that_" Stiles motioned towards the box, his face blooming red.

"It's okay son, I know what is like. I use to be quite th-"

"No, gross. Don't tell me thi-"

"Come on, it's okay. I always wished I had more of thes-"  
"If I take the damn box, will you _quit_!?" Stiles voiced; his cereal about to return for round two.

His father nodded, as Stiles huffed grabbing the oversized box of condoms and rushed out the room afraid of passing out from embarrassment.

* * *

"You're kidding me!?" Scotts voice exploded, laughing.  
"Yeah, and he gave me a box of 50!" Stiles complained, shaking his head terrified of the following conversation with his father.

"That's _hilarious_…" The Alpha murmured, trying to catch his breath, crashing against a locker—gathering some disapproving sights towards to duo.

"Hilarious? I'm emotionally _scarred_!"

"Yeah, yeah, by the way…Where is Malia?" Scott questioned, and whipped his head left and right looking for the newest pack member.

"She went to her Dads house to get a change of clothes. She should be here soon" He said, shrugging his shoulders.

Not more than a second after, Stiles phone had vibrated. He slipped it out of his coat pocket; it was none other than the coyote herself.

"_Hey, where are you?"_

He asked, as Scott teased him on his new '_relationship_' with a series of childish kissing faces.

"_Stiles…I need help…I ca—I can't turn back…I can't do it, and my dad is at the door…What do I do?"_

Through the phone, he heard her father threatening to barge in—her voice was whimpered and watered down.

'_He can't know'_ she told herself. Her father would never forgive her if he knew what she was. If he knew that she had killed his entire family…That she ripped them to pieces, and sent them shredding off the road through the forest with their piercing screams in her ears.

"Help me." She whispered.

"_Help me, Stiles…"_

* * *

**Authors Note: Ugh, I know. I left you on a cliff-hanger, but this is over 2,000 words! I want to thank for all the follows, favorites and reviews I got. I'm only three chapters in, and it make me so happy to have everyone like it!**

**Onward with review replies! **

_**Passionsss: I will do more Scott and Kira. I hate spoiling, but in the next few chapters I have a girl's night, dedicated to the two, and I'll write out their date. I hope you are happy with that!**_

_**Graydon: Thank you for the review, I'm not going to do a love triangle, but there will always be a jealousy side to Malia, no matter if she becomes friends with Lydia or not. Because frankly, Stiles has filled out and there are a few other girls here and there that display some interest. Hehe…Malia is probably going to bite somebody's face off, literally. X3**_

_**Em: Thanks for leaving a review, I appreciate it! I hope you'll like what's coming!**_


	4. Chapter 4

**Authors Note: I am sorry for taking so long to write this. I had no idea how I wanted to do this—then I swerve of boredom hit me…I originally started doing this in Stiles' point of view, but…Why? What could I write? How many red lights he skipped, and many soccer moms in their little mini vans he cut off and pissed off? Jeez, what is worse- a rabid werewolf or an enraged soccer mom? Anyways, I thought Malias would be better…and, so here we are :P**

* * *

"Malia, let me in this _instant!_"

"Uh, just a…" she started, shooting her head in every direction '_second…_' she finished, mumbling.

'Where are you Stiles?' she pleaded to herself, and looked out her bedroom window.

It was stuck, and no matter how hard she tried it simply would not budge. She put her hand, which was more animal than human, against the glass, and searched outside for a Jeep that she half expected to pull up.

"I'm about to bust down this door, Malia. I'm going to count to _three_…" her father threatened, and she knew he was serious. She had lived with him for a few months, but he was more a stranger than kin. She left home to a father who she loved dearly and when she returned years later what only a shell of a man who was scared of everything. And when she looked in his eyes, she realized that his love was gone.

He tried to shoot her, back when she was still in a coat of fur…If he saw her like _this_—claws and everything...would he reach for his guns to shoot the monster that stole the body of his daughter?

"Three…"

'Stiles…hurry….' Her eyes cried, longingly.

"Two…"

Two…He was at two—Stiles wasn't going to make it. She had to do this on her own…

She left for her bed, and wrapped blanket fiercely around her to try and cover all traces of her coyote characteristics. Tears streamed down her face, and she bit her tongue at a last attempt to push back to animal inside her. It wasn't working…

"On-" he stopped counting down abruptly.

Another scent entered the house—she shot up and looked out the window. A blue jeep was hastily parked and a scent was basically visible. A small, vague blue scent trail lead to the front porch but was cut off from her vision.

Below her, she heard rumbling and yelling and couldn't place exactly what was being said. She caught a few words every now and again. She couldn't focus solely on the voices, the rumbling was too distracting.

"Knock, Knock…" she heard a measly voice peak through the locked door suddenly.

"Who's there…?" She said with small sniffle escaping. She got up, and started walking towards the door, the blanket draped across her body.

"Stiles…" he said, as the door opened.

"Stiles who…?" she said, with a small smile.

"Oh…Um…I didn't realize we were doing a joke—um…"

His mumbling was cut off by her jumping into his arms nestling her head into him.

"You came…" she said softly

"Of course I did… I'll always come when you need me. So…what's wrong?"

"I can't change back…" she said into the crate of his neck.

"Okay, okay. Here, sit…" he gestured to her bed, and claimed a spot next to her.

"Let me see your hands…" he said, breaking the silence.

Malia kept quiet, and looked off- slightly ashamed at her lack of self control. He pressed her hands into his, and began to massage them gently.

"Focus on something—_anything_. Here, me. Look at me…" He whispered gently

She swiftly pushed her lips into his as he was her newly found focus, her darks eye sparkling as he pressed back against her. She pulled back

"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have…" she said, slightly toying.

He grabbed her chin, and pulled her face towards his, kissing her gently. Her eyelids fluttered open, and her mouth split in awe before colliding against him on her own account. She just as quickly broke the contact

"Hey, stop…We can't—not here." She said bravely, although her pulse was rioting and her mind screaming otherwise.

His eyes widened slightly, and he threw his hands up in mock defeat "You're right. Not the right time or place."

He sat up, and traced a line across the rim of her face. His touch sent electrical pulses through her entire body. A rush of heat flooded her stomach,

"Screw it" she supplied, as her heart sky-rocketed.

A small smile played around the curves of his lips, as he leaned forward and kissed her softly while tucking a stray strand of hair behind her ear.

Malia tunneled her fingers in-between his hair, and moaned as passion exploded between them. A hazy fog of desire crowded them, tainting all thoughts. His tongue slid in her mouth, entwining with hers—all her fears and cares just faded away and seemed nonexistent.

She rolled on top of him, never breaking their heated contact.

"I love you…" she purred between kisses, and tugged off his shirt throwing it violently across the room.

He removed her shirt more slowly. He grabbed the bottom, and slowly raised the fabric absorbing every new piece of flash that faltered his vision before throwing the discarded clothing to the side of the room.

"I love you too…"

* * *

**Authors Note: So, what did you think? I know, I know—it was much, much shorter but so far this is Rated T, and I had to keep it that way until the majority of my viewers riot and ask for more XD Next chapter will bring up season 4 elements, ergo—The Benefactor, The new pack addition, Liam and with the most requested Kira and Scott fluff! I'll also add some family-love with Derek and Malia- well as much love I can harness from Dereks grumpy persona!**

**And due to request, the studying scene between our beloveds Malia and Stiles!**

**So, I'm trying something different! Questions to steer this story into a new direction, just answer the ones below and you can decide how it goes :P**

**Just answer yes or no, or if you want go into details.**

**Should Malias father discover she is a were-coyote? **

**Should I add the beloved and hilarious Coach?**

**Peter and Malia, daddy-daughter day?**

**A Peter and Stiles brawl about the only and only, Malia?**

**Should I add Lacrosse scenes?**


	5. Chapter 5

**Authors Note: I added the other day, I know—but I felt it wasn't enough X3 So, here we go. I'll update again in 3-4 days :3 Short note, onward we go.**

* * *

Malia flickered awake, and instantly her fingers went to her swollen lips as she looked around her room in a mist of disbelief. A smile erupted on her lips as her gaze fell onto the snoring boy in her bed, tangled in sheets on her rumpled bed.

"Morning…" she whispered to his sleeping state.

She tugged a blanket out from beneath him, and wrapped it around herself. The second she stood up, she realized her room looked like a battle had been played. Blankets were thrown in piles all around the room, strips of clothing on every surface and pillows laid out on the edges of the bed.

She looked back over to Stiles, and softly grinned at his softened features.

"Mm…" Stiles groaned out, opening his blurred eyes. He rolled over onto his front, and gazed on the shredded room with his slit eyes. "_Wow_…" he mumbled out.

"Mmm..Come here," he started, patting the rumbled-tumbled spot next to him "Right here…"

Malia basically skipped over to him, carefully stepping over the fragments of clothing and planting herself next to him. His thoughts were caught by her alluring and magnetic eyes.  
"You have the most beautiful eyes…" he breathed, unable to tear away his gaze

She chuckled lightly to herself, and brought her eyes down to his thighs while he followed her gaze.

"Oh, wow." He exclaimed, surprised.

On his side, were several 'love bites' as Malia referred to them as, she was always territorial and went as far as physically claiming want she wanted to stay hers. Not that he really minded, he actually had started to like all of her animalistic kinks.

She had said she _loved _him. And he said it back—maybe it was heat of the moment but he really thought he meant it. He never thought this is how he'd proclaim his love to someone—in a tower of lust and angst, in a bland bedroom with the girl's father downstairs pouting.

"What time is it?"

"12:43," she paused before saying "We missed first 4 classes. It should be lunch now…"

"Mm…We should get dressed. Next period is math." Stiles proclaimed, sliding onto his feet. He could hear Malia groan, the second he said 'math'. She rolled her eyes, and fell onto her back and traced the ripples in the ceiling with her eyes.

"We need to get dressed, come on." He tried to pull her up, but during his attempt she smacked him in the arm.

"Why do we have too…? Can't we just stay here for today?" she begged, and pushed out her lower lip and started pouting.

"We had this conversation before," he paused with a toyful smirk "math is essential for…?" he waited for her to finish his sentence.  
"Tipping…" she spat out, rolling her eyes. She hated math, in fact—she hated every class. She'd missed eight vital years of learning, and now everything just makes her feel mentally inferior.  
"Bingo!" he widely smiled, and tapped her on the nose, before kissing her gently.

"Now if you'll hand me my boxers off your lamp, we can get going…"

* * *

This was Derek, and that was Peter. They both walked in, and halted as they saw the entire pack standing in their loft, apart from this new addition they heard off, namely Liam. And the pack included the notorious, and new Hale addition—Malia. The two signature Hales had been heisted of millions, and were a little on edge.

Peter wriggled his brows, with a mischievous smile that made the glint in his eyes collapse. He walked over to her, carrying his umbrella which led a trail of droplets.

"Beautiful."

He reached to grasp the corner of her face, before she tore away her vision. Stiles instantly cut in-between the two, and their little supernatural family meeting.

"Stiles, back up" Peter huffed, glowering at him. Peter always liked Stiles a bit, so much he almost brought him into his pack back when he was an Alpha. But Stiles denied to the 'gift', and he wanted his Betas to be wolves on their own accords, apart from that accidental moment with Scott. But he seemed to accept the bite, so Peter figured 'No harm, no foul'

"No…_Nope_" he said firmly. He wasn't going to let what Lydia described as a 'Devil-In-A-V-Neck' try and corrupt Malia. Peter was in this, for solely his own gains—he would use her and toss her off like a rag doll even though she was family. Because that is _exactly _what he does.

Peter glowered at him, and glanced at the protective Alpha, and katana wielding Kitsune. Now isn't the time or place to hit anybody—he wasn't as strong in this form. He wasn't even a Beta anymore, because Scott refused him into their pack. He was a lowly Omega, and they are the lowest and weakest of the food chain. He couldn't take any of them bare-handed anymore.

"Yeah, that's right," he started, and glanced down as Peter roughly grasped the handle on his umbrella, hearing it crackle "take your umbrella and your little Mary Poppins, werewolf ass out of here."

Malias eye glinted lustfully, she loved watching Stiles get protective over her and take control over something. If Stiles doesn't like Peter, than Malia doesn't like Peter.

"_Fine_," he growled, and looked at Malia who was surprisingly silent, before swiftly turning his center of attention back to the walking twig in front of him, "Let me at least speak to her for just a minute. And with you all as my witness, you can watch as I don't instantly transform her in a mini-me." He said, dripping with sarcasm.

Stiles cautiously stepped out of the way, and shot Scott a look which said 'What the hell do I do?' Scott shrugged his shoulder, and focused his eyes on his old Alpha.

Everyone's 'irrational anger' brought a slow and extremely satisfied smirk across Peters face.

"You are beautiful, just like your mother was."

Malias dark eyes flamed at the first sign of a smirk from him.

'If Stiles doesn't like Peter, than Malia doesn't like Peter' she repeated to herself.

She hissed at his voice, causing his eyes to shoot up in surprise.

"Easy, Tiger," he said, grinning like a mad-man and holding his hands up in surrender "Oh...I mean Coyote- Easy, Coyote."

"Are you _looking_ for a fight?"

His smile easily broadened, when she hissed like a spitting kitten. His eyes danced in an aroma of mischief as he absorbed her angry expression, and flushed face. He stepped closer to her, and could basically smell the similarities between the two, radiating off her. But there was something else there too…He couldn't exactly put his finger on it…

Stiles abruptly stepped between the two,  
"Alright. This end the session of Doctor Phil, families unite. Let's go…" he tugged her Malias arm, before having Peters hand clamp into his chest stopping him.

"You…" Peter muttered, pressing his face to Stiles' chest flashing his Omega blue eyes.

"Oh—Oh," Stiles started, curling his lips in disgust as a grown-man basically was groping him "Gross, come on—just…just…Uck get off" he said, unable to find the words.

The entire pack stared, not sure what to do as Stiles was being felt up by Peter.

'This…this is the scent' Peter snarled to himself. The scent that was on Malia—basically wrapped around her was _his_ scent.

"Let him go." A voice boomed, as Derek stepped into the loft.

"What? Why? We were just talking…" Peter said to Derek, before flipping his attention back to the matter at hand.

"This is an…intriguing update…" he breathed, removing his hand from Stiles' chest. He looked at a confused Malia who stood behind Stiles.

"What is?" she popped her head around his shoulder, wanting to know what was going on. She never had any clue what happened in any of her classes, but she'll be damned if she doesn't understand what happens outside of school.

"I got this…" Stiles swallowed and pushed Malia behind him again, oblivious to her indignant gasp at being pushed behind him.

Scott glared at Peter, and took a step forward next to Stiles. Scott glowered at him giving him the 'If you touch any of them…' threatening look. Peter completely ignored Scott, and had a small snarl emit from within his own throat as he looked at the fish-bone who mated his daughter.

'I can't say it now…not here', Peter exclaimed, thinking to himself 'There are too many dangers…Scott, that Kitsune—Kiri or something…And Derek—who is already on edge with his stolen feature of his eyes…' Peter growled, and took his leave…  
'I'll be back Stiles…' He snarled on his way. He wasn't going to let their little masquerade go on much longer—he was going to stop them from happening. He hated the idea of his daughter doing _that_ with a walking-talking fish bone. He flinched at the thought of the two—and turned towards the exit and left.

Derek walked up to the scene, and mentally barked at Stiles

"Get out." He plainly said, in his average grumpy state.

Scott and Kira heeded his warning, and instantly took off—arm and arm. Ever since their kiss, they've been inseparable. But Stiles realized something was off, Kira was acting strange…Like she was hiding some big secret. What is there to hide? She's a samurai wielding, fox badass—nobody can get it better than that.

Stiles stood still, as did Malia. She wouldn't leave without him, she had to watch him.

"I said, _get out_."

"No—no can do." Stiles said firmly, curving his voice.

Derek shot him, his average dangerous glance that earned the title "Lord Squinty-Brow". Derek was _always_ in a bad mood, from scaring small children with his beastly features to threatening to bite of Stiles' throat, with his teeth.

'Lord Squinty- Brow strikes again…' Stiles muttered to himself.

"I told you, if you ever called me that again—I'd rip your tongue out" he taunted quietly. Stiles quickly leapt for the floor as he dodged a book that Derek launched at his smug face.

Malia stood back, slightly confused.

Derek was her blood, and in the wild you never turn on blood…But Stiles was her mate—someone she would protect at all cost. Derek's hospitality was severely lacking, and even with his brows were drawn into a scowl as he beamed at Stiles, the air didn't seem hostile. Not like he was really going to hurt him…

Stiles blew out a frustrated breath "Fine, fine…Damnit, I'm leaving!" he spat, only to be in a head-first collision with a book that was unnaturally large. He dropped to the floor, and grabbed the edge of his forehead, and let out a exasperated groan

"Ow!" Stiles yelled, as Malia flipped down beside him and flashing her coyote teeth at Derek.

Derek snorted, and hazed his eyes over to the door.

"So, are you going to leave now? Because, I still have..." he started, looking down at the series on the table "Moby Dick, and Cujo."

"Of course you'd have something about a rabid dog" he snarkily replied, and drew himself back onto his quivering legs with a little help from Malia.

"I'm leaving, I'm leaving…" he threw his hands up as if they were white flags and headed for the door.

Stiles looked at Derek, as if he had 'Asshole' written in big, block letters across the base of his forehead.

"Oh, and Stiles?" Derek shouted at him

"Fix your scent. You reek of Malia and Peter didn't need to know all those details" He finished, glaring at him with his signature squint. It served as a warning too…

* * *

"_Hey, we're not finished yet!" _Stiles exclaimed as Malia slammed her calculus book shut with flair.

"Yes, we are" she said firmly, pushing him back into the bed while straddling him.

He subconsciously moaned, and she gave exaggerated growls along his lips. Their lips colliding in a fit of ecstasy, Stiles absently ran his hands up and down her back and Malias world tilted as she clung to his shoulders pressing her kiss deeper into his. His hands went to her hips, holding her steady as he gazed into her eyes, under heavy lids—he abruptly stopped and gently pushed her up—his gaze met by her confused face

"I promised I'd help you study" he confessed, sliding her off his chest.

"And then we can go back to that," he began, "lots of that…"

She let out an approving giggle, and he followed with a alluring and adorable chuckle

"Like…so much" he laughed again

Malia opened her book, tucking a stray strand of hair behind her ear. The second the page was open, and two sharpies occupied the majority of the page.

"What's with all the highlighters, anyway?"

"Green is for the things I understand," she said calmly, flashing a Green highlighter

"Yellow is for, I'm working on it…And…"

She glanced at the intimidating book, and flipped through a few pages before settling on a page that was more red than white. She picked up the Red highlighter, and a frown encompassed across her face

"And red means—I have no clue…I'm mostly using red…" she shrugged

Stiles glanced to his left, at his similarly designed board. With red, green and yellow strings dangling in the air, against his board which held several cut out news-paper articles related to a now-solved supernatural mystery. He grinned, and placed his hand on her shoulder and connected his lips to hers—not lustful like the others, but a simple and pure loving act.

She tore away, leaving him slightly mangled and confused

"Study first, remember?" she said, grinning at him.

* * *

**Authors Note: There. So, I usually give away a little something at the end—I was going to finish the study scene going on about Lydia's notes, but I got lazy ^.^"**

**I'll have a more intense Peter—Stiles confrontation, and a slightly awkward bonding time purely for the Hales. I'll also add Liam, when I learn more about him—and I also have an announcement…Coach is **_**returning**_**! Woo! I can't wait to write him, and adding him includes a few lacrosse scenes!**

**I also want to thank you all for the reviews—I knew Stalia isn't a greatly shipped couple just yet, so I didn't expect very many. I'm happy all of you reviewed and favorite! Thanks for reading, and I'll update soon! **


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N: Sorry for taking so long. Most of you know that, there are two Ebola patients coming in from Africa to get treated in Atlanta. I personally know, one of them, Dr. Kent. He was a close, family friend a few years ago and for now all we can do is hope for a healthy recover! But I know, nobody wants to hear about my troubles so without further ado…**

The bell rang, signaling that History class what going to begin. Stiles firmly planted his hands on Malias shoulders, dragging her to class before she attempted to duck out once again. He could hear her groan, and plead for just one more day—but he swiftly cut off her requests by plopping her in her seat and taking to one behind her.

"No, Malia," he started; as he spotted her prepare a speech, "You can't miss_ another_ day! You only come to class half of the time, as it is. You can't keep this up—and besides, I'm going to help you."

"But, Stil-"

"Nope." He didn't let her finish. Scott told him, in a relationship— at least that's what he thought this was that you had to voice yourself. Take a stand, when things are tough to keep everyone together no matter how hard it may be. Malia let out a defiant groan, and pushed out her bottom lip, giving it one last go.

Coach strolled in at the same time, looking around the class giving it a final judge and picking out a target today. Coach noticed the incredibly creepy and blank stare coming from Greenburg in the back.

"_Please_…?" Malia said, pushing her hand in an alluring gesture onto the far-end of his leg inciting a noise that proved her seduction attempt was starting to work. 'He's caving' she thought to herself, a baby grin glimmering on her lips.

Coach swiftly turned his attention to Stilinski, and his apparent girlfriend. 'When did that awkward, little fish bone get a girlfriend?' His eyes flickered over her hand, and Stiles' face before it popped into his mind. 'Not in my class, you don't.' He calmly walked over to the duo, and bent—his disapproving face, just waiting for the fish bone to turn his head.

Coach cleared his throat, and attempted not to smirk as Stiles jumped so quickly, that he fell to the floor.

"Oh, Coach—Hi." He said, stuttering with each word, rubbing the back of his neck as he pushed himself off the floor.

"What's _this_?" He simply said, switching his gaze to the pretty girl that was conversing with the Stiles.

Malia sat quietly, batting her eyelashes with a smile. She didn't really know what was going on, or why the teacher was over here.

"This is, uh—Malia." Stiles said, sitting back down behind her desk.

"Okay, well to prevent the soft porn that was about to play out—you, little girl, go sit over there." He said, pointing to the empty desk far across the room.

"No, I don't want too." She stated, without a change of expression. She looked back at Stiles, who was fidgeting in his seat.

"Honey, it's not a choice. Pick your butt up, and _move_." Coach said again, his eyes narrowed at her defiance.

"No." she said, challenging his authority with a simple wave of her shoulders.

Coach looked around, over his shoulder. Quickly trying to decide what to do—how he would look if a teenage girl beat him. He settled-

"Then you," he said, pointing at the squirming boy "move over there."

If the girl wouldn't move, then Stiles would. Win-Win, Coach thought to himself.

Stiles grabbed his bag, causing Malia to furrow her brows. Who was this asshole, and why was he ordering them to be separated? Malia stood up, and grabbed Stiles' arm as he walked by and pushed him back into his seat, and looked back at the Coach, firmly planting her body back in the chair.

"No, I don't want him to go." She said, obviously she was beginning to get mad and Stiles noticed, he leaned over the table and whispered in her ear

"_Watch your pulse_…"

"What did he just say?" Coach voiced, as he was just about as mad as Malia.

"He told me to watch my pulse" she shrugged, trying to calm.

Coach squinted his eyes, confused as what 'watch your pulse' means. What? Was she going to explode into a 'tsunami of feminine fury or something?' he thought.

"What kind of kinky stuff is that? You," he pointed at the girl "Keep your hands _off_ him- and you" he then directed his attention to Stiles "Stay. But only because that's what_ I_ want." Coach then pushed off to the front of the class.

"I'm mad…" she whispered to Stiles, trying to signal her oncoming situation.

"Just…get calm. Here, take my hand…" he said, pushing his hand towards her underneath the desk.

She took his hand, and squeezed trying to focus on something else.

"Uh, Malia?" he spat out, trying to steady his breath "Claws…"

She took notice, that her animalistic nails were piercing into him. She flung her hand back, and quickly apologized.  
"I can't…I can't get it back…" she said, stuttering.

He noticed the fear in her voice, and remembered the last time that happened was when her Father nearly came busting in. She was visibly trembling, and he had to figure out what to do. He bit his lip, and looked around for something to stop this… He cursed to himself, and sighed and grabbed her hand and lifted himself from his seat. She stood also, and followed him out of the class room. He could hear Coach yelling from a distance, as they sped down the hall way.

"Is he chasing us?" Malia asked; sweat rolling down her forehead as her body was shaking while she tried to stay human.

"No," he started, looking behind them "No, I think we're fine…"

He leaped for the nearest bathroom, and told her to stand by the sinks.

She stood, looking in the mirrors at her beastly features coming into play. Her teeth, obviously bigger; but not as big as they would be if it were the full moon. Her jaw was normal, but slightly enlarged to making room for her large fangs. She watched, as Stiles pushed out a confused freshman while she avoided coming into contact with his eyes. Stiles locked the bathroom door, and ran back to Malia.

"Okay, okay, okay…Umm…" he started, looking around. He turned onto the faucet, and gestured for her to splash her face. The water collided with her skin, but nothing changed—her feral face was still there.

"Stiles," she started, interrupting him as he tried to talk but only stumbled over words.

"Stiles!" she said, this time even louder. He stopped talking, and just looked at her, she began to speak biting her tongue with almost every word "It's…it's harder than I've been letting on"

"What?" he said, his face curling in confusion

"Controlling it…I never made a big deal out of it—but I can't control it. It's almost impossible, and I can't change back when I want…I just…wait it out" she said, and looked up at him ashamed.

"But—but…What about all the lessons with Scott?"  
"I told him I had it under control, and we didn't need to do the lessons anymore…I lied…I'm sorry."

Stiles sighed, and corrected his structure.

"It's fine, don't…don't worry about it."

Malia shook her head, not understanding. She can't control the shift—how is that 'fine'? Was he really so ashamed of her, that he was confined to such a simple word? She dropped her head, and stared at her feet and licked the inside of her mouth feeling around as her fangs slowly diminished into human teeth. Stiles noticed her head dropped, and placed his hands gently on her shoulders and cooed at her.

"Hey, I said its fine. I'm not upset or mad at you."

She stood quiet, but pushed her head up to meet his gaze. Before she knew what was happening, he had wrapped his arms around her and pulled her into his embrace. He kissed the top of her head, and held her gently.

"I'm sorry…"

She kissed his cheek and then kissed the tip of his lips, nestling her head into his neck. He swiftly placed his hand under her chin, wanting more and pushed his mouth onto hers, claiming dominance. Their tongues twirled together, igniting a certain lust and explosive passion. He pushed her onto the sink, with her back to the mirror as their hands roamed each other, and their tongues danced. His hand pushed into her hair, as he tried to pull her closer into him, his other hands undoing all the buttons on her shirt. She let out an excited moan, as he playfully bit her lip and started to kiss her neck. Her hands were grabbing a fistful of his shirt—her claws slowly extending from the excitement creating small rips here and there. Their seductive act was interrupted, by a knocking at the locked bathroom door. They looked at each other and busted into a fit of laughs, as they looked like a mess. Stiles' hair was all over the place, and his shirt was ripped from her pulling on his so roughly and cutting into it, and Malia's shirt was buttoned all the way down, and her hair was even messier than his—knots entangled from his hands roaming her scalp.

"Just a moment!" he called out, to the impatient figure standing at the door.

"We can finish later" she whispered, nibbling on his earlobe which sent lustful shivers down his spine.

They unlocked the door, and all breathing stopped.

'Coach?' Stiles thought, but couldn't manage to spit out.

There he was. Tapping his foot, with a look on his face that could knock out an entire classroom— he looked at the two and it was obvious what they were doing. Coach grabbed Stiles by his shirt and started to drag him, and gestured for Malia to follow.

They sat in the office, and gathered concerned glances from the teachers, and office aids and some humorous and 'congratulations' looks from the students that passed.

"We called your parents" a voice erupted from the silence.

Malia simply shrugged, while Stiles instantly started to panic. Not more than fifteen minutes passed when Malia nudged Stiles and whispered in his ear

"Is that my dad…and _Peter_?"

**A/N: Da-da-Daaa! Why would Peter be with her Father? Hmm…Who knows ;) Alright, again—sorry for taking so long with the update. I'll try and have this updated by this time next week—with lots of family and relationship drama! Woo!**


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N: Alright. I worked on this for about two hours, because…Well, school is starting for me in less than two weeks, so I won't update as often because I'm all AP! Woo! I think…Haha. So, don't hate me for this chapter XD**

Not long after Peter and Mr. Tate arrived at Beacon Hills High, Stiles' own father, Sheriff Stilinski followed. Once the entire group was rallied, they were all coped into a single room. All the adults were oblivious as to why they were called in— leaving everyone to their own imaginations. Their very, very _wild _imaginations

Malia noticed that Stiles tensed the second that they were all in the room, confined. She grasped his hand into her own, and gave him a smile that was meant to be comforting but just caused him to tense even further. Not more than a minute into being called, Coach strolled in.

"So," Coach began, walking in front of the group "I bet you're wondering why I called you in today…"

Mr. Tate noticed his daughter and the Stilinski boys' contact, and casually stood from his seat and strolled over, and shoved himself in-between them. Malia furrowed her brows, as her father acted like he didn't know what he was doing. She huffed, and dove her arms inwards, crossing them as Coach continued.

"Your daught-," he suddenly stopped, shooting a glance at Peter "Um…Who are you?"

"…_Family friend"_ he muttered, and leaned back into his seat as Coach started again

Stiles tapped his foot to the floor, anxiously. His stomach dropping, as he was absolutely terrified of the Former Alpha being there—he wasn't scared _of_ Peter, he was scared of the effect he could have. And everything he could ruin, with just muttering three words. Stiles played it over in his head, relatively,

'I'm your father'

'I'm your father'

'I'm your fat-" 

"Stilinski!" The voice ripped him from his petrifying train of though. 

"Uh—wha?" He spurred, shooting up from his thought.

"I think you-with what you did; you should be acting like a _phenomenal_ citizen. And that isn't going to do you any good, if you can't even listen."

Stiles nodded, and let Coach go on

"Now…Your daughter," he turned his sight onto Mr. Tate, "She was displaying some very _inappropriate _behavior."

"What kind?" Mr. Tate asked, turning his direction to Malia who didn't even flinch. Or cower like the Stilinski boy, who was basically hiding under his seat.

"_Psh_, you name it. Refusal to listen, and follow instructions, disrespect to a Staff Member, Inappropriate contact with another student, leaving the classroom unexcused and so on, but that isn't the reason why I called you here…"

"There's more?" Sheriff Stilinski said, falling into his seat exasperated

"Oh yes. They were found in the Males Restroom—door locked. And when they came out, they were very…_unkempt_…" Coach said, clearing his throat.

Mr. Tate bottom lip quivered, as he looked at Malia, and when his vision crossed over Stiles was murderous. He looked at him, like he just kicked a litter of Puppies. Like he _ate_ his first born child—his vision turned back to Malia. She looked around at everybody in the room, completely confused—she had no idea what the idea was.

"What?" she questioned, and continued "All we did was kiss. We didn't mate or anything, because he interrupted us." She shot a grudging glance towards Coach

Everybody's mouths dropped, as Malia battered her lashes completely oblivious. Peter's mouth visibly tensed, as he tried to hold back his anger and pure disgust. His hands were wrapped so tightly, and so harshly around the handles that they crackled and snapped. Wooden splinters shot up into the air, as he bit his tongue trying to maintain control. Sheriff Stilinski muttered 'Oh god' and sighed, collapsing his face into his hands.

"Alrighty, _that's_ _enough_…" Stiles spat out, his few words in the entire session so far.

Malia shifted her glance at Stiles, and shrugged her shoulders and slit her mouth shut.

For what seemed like an eternity, nobody said anything. Coach excused himself, and quickly left before the room exploded.

Stiles started to tighten even further, and jumped as Malia whispered in his ear

"What's wrong?"

"Huh?" He said, tossing his brain back into the moment.

"You've been acting weird since we got here." She stated

"Oh—um…We need to talk about something…"

"Okay. So, let's talk." The Coyote urged.

"Um…I don't know if this is the best place…" Stiles gulped, looking at Peter out of habit.

Malia followed his glance, and blurted out "Oh yeah. Why are you here?" towards Peter. She shot everyone a '_What the hell'_ look, due to the fact that the second she asked the entire room became rigid.

"Uh—sometimes," Stile started, feeling the need to give this explanation "People withhold information…because it could be very, very harmful to someone. And that informa—"

"You're mother had an affair!" Mr. Tate blurted, accidently

The Coyote sat quiet, as her entire world became muted. Her thoughts overcame all sound in that room.

'You're a Hale' replayed in her mind over and over. Her heart started to collapse.

_An affair. _

_An affair. So, he wouldn't be her Dad. Not her Dad…And she's a Hale. _

_A Hale. _

_And Peter…He's here… and he's here…and he's a Hale._

_A Hale_

_She worked it around. She's a Hale…He's a Hale…_

_Father_

_He's her Father._

_Malia Tate…_

_Malia Hale…_

_The name didn't sit right. _

_Stiles…Stiles…He…Knew._

_Stiles knew. _

_He lied. _

_Lied. _

"-lia?"

A hand connected with her shoulder. She slowly lifted her face, as it crumbled away. It was Stiles.

"You knew…?" Her voice started to break, as her entire life began to disappear from her. All of her memories came flooding back, and the thought of never being related to that man. Stiles didn't say anything—his mouthed opened but no sound came out. Mr. Tate, Peter and the Sheriff all sat silent in their seats and watched the scene in front of them unfold.

"How long" she asked, her voice becoming solid. Her emotions faltering, and being façade of nothing

"…A...Few months" he managed to announce

She said nothing. She swiftly removed herself from her seat and walked away, leaving the room crumbling. Her face looked so cold, and so emotionless yet it felt so alone and so _broken_.

Stiles turned away, his chest aching. His breathe trembling as he tried to grasp the concept of what just played out. His face curved, facing Peter who wore a smile.

That one smile—crushed Stiles. Like somebody just dumped a pile of rocks on him, his insides began to swell with an unnamable feeling. His regret and loneliness was replaced with anger. Anger at the smug bastard, who had the nerve to grin- Stiles gritted his teeth and removed himself from his seat.

"You—"was the single word that escaped his lips before his fist connected with Peters temple. Peters head whipped, but he was unaffected. It was surprise more than anything. Stiles knew he couldn't really hurt him with his fist, but it was that punch that satisfied something deep in his gut.

His father called after him, but he just turned and walked away. His fists so tight, that his nails dug into the palms of his hands.

He had to fix this.

Somehow, he had to fix this.

It was late, around 2 or 3 in the morning.

Stiles couldn't sleep, after that day he went home and laid down and traced the ripples in the walls, trying to find vague figures like some people do with clouds.

With each second passing, he hoped it would get easier but each time it just got harder. His back, felt so heavy that he couldn't walk and his stomach had this unique feeling that vibrated through his entire core that made him just want to sleep. Sleep for days, and then sleep even more.

He couldn't take it anymore. He waited, and waited for her to show up—and then what happened today would have just been casted aside. They would kiss, and be close and none of what happened would've mattered. But she never showed…and it did happen.

He shot up, and caved his head into the pits of his hands. He spat curses towards himself, and snagged the keys to his Jeep.

The drive was long, and dark. The lights never seemed to stay Green, and they never ceased being Red.

His thoughts were black and blue, as he pulled into her drive way. His heart dropped, as the pit of guilt pulled it down. He repeated 'I have to do this' over and over. And he would.

Stiles curved to the side of the house, and pulled himself up—climbing up the rails of the house like Malia always did to get into his. He surfaced her window, and looked—she was huddled up in what seemed to be every blanket in that house, lying down. He mustered up the courage with a abnormally large breathe, and slide the window open—mentally slapping himself each time it cracked. He slithers into the room, and closes the entry behind him.

"Malia…?" He whispered, the name seemingly attached to his lips.

The black figure on the bed shifted, as he carefully walked over.

"Get out…" the Coyote gritted.

"Please…just lis-"

"_Get out_!" She said her voice so raw and empty.

"Just listen!" He shouts, louder than he meant, the sudden change in his tone causing her figure to falter. He glided over to her, and kneeled down, gleaming into her eyes. Her voice was empty, but her eyes were so filled with emotions that it broke his heart. All the betrayal and desolation flooded her once beautiful, brown eyes.

"I didn't know how to tell you, okay!? You think that I liked kn-"

"You lied!" she shrieked, her voice crackling as she cut him off "You lied to me, Stiles. You knew for _months_, and every time you looked at me—every time you touched me, you were _lying._" 

"It's not that simple" he cried out

"No, it never is—is it? And I can just never see it, because I'm the stupid girl, who was caught in the wood for eight damn years! So explain to me, once again, because I am not able to understand how lying is okay!" She snapped

Stiles gaped at her, before glancing away—"I just wanted to protect you…to stay away from him. He's a bad guy, Malia—he'll _use_ you. He'll destroy you, to get what he really wants."

"Just _leave_!" She cried out, her role starting to crack. She picked up her lamp, on the nightstand and flung it across the room with pure strength as her claws extended from the tips of her fingers. The lamp shattered into a hundred pieces, shimmering as they fell to the floor. She dug her fingers into her side, gashing deeply as Malia tried to stay in control of herself. Her jaw clenched up, as her beastly teeth took an appearance, followed by rigid breathes.

"Just leave…" she repeated over and over, rocking herself back and forth with her face pushed into her knees. She held herself as Stiles kissed the top of her head gently, forfeiting and slipped out the window. The room suddenly felt so cold, and not even with every blanket in the house cloaked around her, she couldn't rid herself off that chilling feeling that surfaced on the very tip of her skin. She rocked back and forth, her face encased between her legs as she suddenly exhaled that breath she held—every tear suddenly rushing down her face. Her mouth flung open, as she bawled into her lap.

He was gone.

He left.

She told him to go—but something in her was screaming 'No' and too just let him stay. Malia wanted to stand under a white flag, and just forget it all and cave into his arms.

But he lied to her.

He _lied._

Her mate lied to her. He knew this entire time, and he somehow managed to look at her _everyday _and act like nothing was wrong. She sniffled, and looked outside—her heart shifted as he wasn't there. He left. And she couldn't shake the feeling of uselessness. He just…left

"Just…_come back_…"

**A/N: Maybe I'm feeling emotional, because I've been watching sad-ass movies….all day- and I felt this was just too damn sad. And I feel I made this too damn depressing X3 But I always go for happy endings, so just deal with me for right now! Leave your reviews, and don't hate me for probably ruining your day X3 **

**Oh, and I think it was on this…But somebody asked me to do a Scira fanfic, and it was a guest and…well- yeah! I'll do it, but give me a few days because I have to actually go back and get a grasp on Kira's personality, and think of a small plot. And if I do one, no more begging for Scira on a Stalia fanfic…deal?**

**Alright, that's all. Hope you liked it…and again, I will have a very beautiful reunion, so just deal with me until I update. I'll make it worth-while :3**


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N: Sorry for not updating! Classes started. I can't drive yet, so I have to ride the bus…at 5:30…AM. And yeah, by the time I get home (7pm, because of sports) I'm exhausted. So—I've decided. I'll wont update during week-day, but on the weekends! Sorry! So…Without further ado—Foot Note!**

"_Malia!_" she heard someone yell, distantly. She slowly cracked open her eyes, absorbing in her surroundings as she lay in her room. She inwardly cursed at herself, and slid her legs over the corner of her bed—pushing herself onto the chilling wood floors. She ignored the clock on her night stand, as it screamed its high-pitched melody.

She carried herself down stairs, dragging the bases of her feet. On the counter was a single plate, and 3 Waffles piled onto each other as they seemingly played King Of The Hill, overlapping one another. She mumbled a slur of words, which meant to serve as a 'Thank you' as she slid her limp body onto the stool in front of the table.

"You need to eat" her father said, his eyes pleading.

"Not hungry" Malia shrugged, shielding her eyes from his.

"I don't really care at this point! I don't want you wasting away—now _eat_."

She pushed his words away, clamping her hand onto the tip of her chin as it held her weight and kept her upright.

"Malia, if something is wrong you know you can te-" 

"I have to get to School," she cut him off, and rose from her chair. Her legs quivering, as she felt a harsh wave of coldness rush through her body, she stood there for what felt like forever as the entire room lay still before of her. Two hands wrapped along the rims of her upper arms, knocking her from her empty mind. She took a few steps away, turning to see her Father as his mouth hung, his eyes searching from some trace of his daughter. She picked up every change in his expression, and swiftly turned—leaving the room to the deafening silence.

"Hey!"

A voice erupted from behind her, as Malia traveled down the Hallways. It was Kira, that Fox girl—they never really talked all that much now that she thought about it. But the thought of talking to any of her former pack made her cringe, so she curled up her shoulders and sped along diving left and right as she avoided hitting nearby students on their way to class. The way she dodged, made the Hall Way look like a Mine Field.

'Damnit' Malia hissed

"Hey, how have you been doing?" The Fox asked as she caught up to her, obviously asking 'Where have you been for the past week'

"Fine." She lied. It was a natural impulse, trying to protect herself in any possible way—trying to protect herself from falling back into the comforting arms of her pack. Of _His _arms. She bit her lip, and continued to walk as Kira scanned her structure for a slim second—instantly realizing, she's lying.

"Are you su-" Kira started, before looking up to realize the Coyote had slipped away.

Malia slipped into a passing crowd, and blended in. She felt her pulse start to race. She was furious that she even stood there with her for more than a second—she was more annoyed that Kira seemed to take no notice to the fact she wasn't her pact anymore. That she wasn't a part of her _family_ like she use to be.

The entire time she ran for her class, she could feel _all of them_ starting to form the words 'Are you okay?' and 'Where have you been?' She was so sick of it. All she wanted was to be left alone—to wallow and do her own thing without having to stand on a white flag just so they'd leave her alone.

'Finally' she mustered out, collapsing into her seat of History. Nobody is in here…Not Scott, neither Lydia nor Kira. And definitively not Stiles…

She collapsed into her thoughts, and before she knew it to bell rang. And she had zoned out for the entire period, and hadn't learned a thing.

The second she left the class, she felt her stomach drop….He was just waiting.

Stiles

He stood, bag engraved beneath his red eyes. He looked as if he'd been pacing for hours on end, he opened his mouth to speak but nothing came out, his body swayed as he held himself up.

"I don't want to talk, Stiles." She stated, shaking her head as she pushed passed him.

"Please…Just five minutes," he grasped her arm, holding her in place.

"Please…" he repeated, after a moment of silence.

"Five minutes. Not a second more" She hissed, her eyes flaring up in shades of blue.

He nodded, in awe that she agreed. She ripped her arm from his grasp, and followed him into the Janitors closet. Stiles warily dragged his fingers through his hair, pacing back and forth throughout the small room.

"I wanted to tell you—I did. But Peter—he's bad," he pushed a shaking finger against his head and pressed harshly "He'll get inside you head, and he'd hurt you. He'd use you…Th-th-that's what he does, he us-uses people. He uses them up…" He mumbled excessively, his lip quivering.

Seeing Stiles like this made her heart collapse over itself, how could he be like this? He look like he hadn't slept in weeks—that he hadn't eaten anything in days. His body was crumbling.

"Shut up." Malia firmly said.

"No, just listen to me, just lis-"he quipped, shaking his head hysterically

"I said, shut up. When is the last time you slept?" She asked, scanning his appearance.

"Uh…It's been um…" he began, turning his gaze onto his feet "about a week…"

She flared her nostrils, and bit on her tongue.

"Let's go." She growled, grabbing his wrist and easily dragging his body from the Closet.

"Where?" he asked, slightly paranoid

"Home. You need sleep." She firmly noted, planting her words in the air.

"I'm fine…" He retorted, chewing on his words

She passed his words aside, as useless chatter and swiped his keys and climbed into his Jeeps driver's seat and watched as he climbed into the Passengers'.

"Malia—you can't drive." Stiles stuttered

"Well you can't either. And yes, I _can_ drive…Just not legally." She said, instantly starting to engine and pulling out from the School parking lot.

With each press on the Gas pedal, she felt a change in the air as the fragile boy next to her gasped. She wasn't _that_ bad at driving, she told herself. Not long after—about fifteen minutes of having his gape at her driving, they pulled up to his house. The Sheriff was away at work, so the house was empty.

"We're here." She said, pushing the gear into Park. She looked, and a small smile played across the curves of her lips as he was fast asleep. She left the car and walked around, and pursed her lips before giving in and hoisting him into her arms.

"I'm still mad at you…" she whispered into his sleeping form. She shut the car door with the back of her foot, as she slithered into the house.

Carefully, she paced up the steps and entered his room—breathing in a breath of home. She scurried over, and gently rolled him onto his bed. She frowned, as she felt like something was wrong—she lit up light a light bulb as she rolled him into the middle of the bed and tucked him in.

She wanted so badly to climb into the bed with him, because she as well had a very hard time drifting off to sleep. But this changed nothing…He still lied…It was so hard to be mad. The way his lips curved, as he was finally sleeping- the way his body curved—hugging a figure no longer there.

She sighed, and turned before hearing a voice pique in the room

"_Don't…_." he gaped, sitting up.

Malia turned her bottom lip hanging as she shifted her gaze away.

"I can't…" she said, pleading more than anything.

"Just…sit…" he swallowed, never leaving her gaze.

She bit her bottom lips, and lifted her head to push back her single tear.

"Fine…Only for a minute" She said, forfeiting. The victory evident in his eyes as she crawled onto the bed, collapsing underneath the covers

"I'm sorry." He reiterated

"You _lied_…" she muttered, shifting her weight to face him.

"I know…I wish I told you—I should've told you."

"Then why didn't you?"

"I was scared" he whispered

"Why…?"

"I was afraid…That once you knew—you'd think that you needed to be like him. That you wouldn't need us anymore….That you wouldn't need _me._"

She looked into his eyes, and watched them overfill and spill out.

"Just be quiet…" she mumbled, and curled into his warmth. He wrapped his arm around the curve of her waist, and rested into the cradle of her neck. Not more than a moment late, he drifted off into sleep. The first hint of rest, he had in a week.

She turned over, and looked at his slumbering features. The way his chest rose with each heavy breath—how his cheek glistened along the lights where his tear stained cheek resided. She gently placed a kiss on the corner of his mouth, mumbling 'I'm still mad…' before rolling back into his arms.

"But I love you too damn much to hate you…"

That second, she closed her eyes and promised herself that she'd leave before he woke up.

She had to be gone…

**A/N: Alright, he's easing his way back in. It'll get better, promise :3 leave some reviews. I'll update either next week, or sometime this weekend if I get bored XD**

**Reviews are love, so have fun loving my story X3 Thanks for reading. **


	9. Chapter 9

**A/N: I won't be updating for awhile—I'm sorry! I'm getting surgery done—nothing big or bad. It'll just take a week or two before they take me off my pain pills... And you don't want me writing when I'm loopy. I'll be chanting on an on, about flying soup cans like the last time…Long story. But, for that…I'll try my best to make this a happy chapter! :D**

"Mm…Good morning…" Stiles breathed into Malia's neck, just as she was attempting to break free from his grasp.

"Oh…Morning…"

'Damnit, Damnit!' the Coyote yelled to herself. She promised herself she'd be gone before the sun rose—but she drifted off. She felt so stupid—she was falling back into him. She hated not having any control of her emotions, no matter how they made her felt. Whether it was a daze of ecstasy, or being hit smack-dead with a sludge hammer

"How are you feeling?" Stiles pursed, pulling himself upwards.

"Fine." She muttered, looking for something to focus on. Anything really—Malia just had to shift her attention. It's the only way she'd every get out of there with her pride intact.

"That's good…" He replied, scratching the back of his head.

"I'v-I've got School…I should probably head out, so I'm not late…"

"You don't have too…" He started "You still have some of your clothes in the Closet…"

Malia huffed, and sucked it up and figured, she just had to be frank with him.

"Stiles…I can't, alright? This," she started, gesturing between the two "isn't something can be fixed so easily."

Just as quickly, his posture changed as he shot up from the mattress.

"What can I do, Malia?" he started, not giving her a chance to speak "I hate this. Not being in your life—not being in your pack. I hate _not_ being with you!"

"Stiles, just please…Don't—I can't handle this, I can't handle anyt-"

"No…You _choose_ not to handle this. I have seen you overcome things a lot tougher than this." He breathed

"What do you want me to choose!?" Malia screamed, finally loosing the last bit of control she had, "I hate this, Stiles. I hate being Human; I hate all these new rules. You can help me adjust all that I want—but I will never be this perfect girl you want me to be. I get mad, Stiles! Get over it!"

He stood there completely stunned

"I hate all of this…The way I feel—the _feelings_ that I feel! Guilt, Sorrow, Anger? I never felt _any_ of that before. Not once—it was you! I let you in, and you made it worse. I felt things that I never wan-"

"Malia…"

"No, don't do that! You wanted to talk—well guess what Stiles! I'm talking!" She shouted, pacing through the room. "You have no idea, just how many times I wanted to just _leave. _But then you—"She scrunched her nose, wildly pointing a finger at him "you, went around and got inside my head. You were my Mate—and I get it. I'm not a 'Coyote' anymore, but I still wanted to spend the rest of my life with you. Because you meant everything to me…I told you everything, because I felt I could _trust_ you. Because I loved you!" She panted, her words falling short with her raging breathes.

"And I loved you! No, I _still_ love you!" He calmly said, grabbing her flailing arm.

"Just..stop…" She sobbed, falling into his chest.  
"Shh…I've got you…" He hushed into her ear, he let out a small chuckle "You know…I practiced this for hours and hours…This talk…But—I think I should've just listened to you."

She clung to him, completely silent apart from the few sniffles she released.

"Stiles…?" She managed to swallow, after moments of silence "Why didn't you just…tell me?"

"I don't know…I always thought I was doing what was best…But, I didn't realize how wrong I was until I saw your face…How disappointed you looked-how _empty_." He finished

"Ar-are we going to be alright…?"

"Yeah…yeah, Malia—we're going to be just fine…"

"_Malia Tate to the Office"_

The schools intercom called. Nobody batted an eye, as she grabbed her back and curiously trekked up to the Office.

The second she walked into the Office, her vision went black as hands guided in front of her line of vision. Out of reflex, she twisted her arms around flipping the being who inflicted such a sudden display of actions.

"Ow, ow, ow…" A squeaky voiced peered through her senses.

Below her, abnormally stretched over the Offices line of chairs was Stiles.

"Damn, dude. You alright?" Her Alpha mumbled, peering over her shoulder as he appeared from thin air.

"Yep…Apart from my fractured spleen—I think I'll be just fine."

She quickly jumped, offering to help him off, but he warded off her gesture with a quick 'I'm fine' and a small kiss to her forehead.

"Entirely my fault, I'm sorry."Stiles muttered, taking her hand and guiding her into the desolate office.

"Mm…What am I doing here?" Malia questioned, before catching scent.

Lydia appeared from around the corner, twirling a Key between two of her fingers. Kira followed behind her, ducking behind Lydia's tall figure.

"_We_, are here because _we_ are leaving early." Lydia smugly said, pursing her lips together in a luscious grin.

"I told her—this is a really bad idea" Kira popped out, like a samurai weasel from behind Lydia's shoulder.

"Hush now. It's a great idea." The strawberry blonde grinned.

"Anybody care to tell me, exactly _what_ this 'idea' is?" Scott peeped in, his eye filled with confusion and curiosity.

"We, are going…_out of town_" Lydia smirked, satisfied with her vague answer.

"Am I the only one who thinks this is a really, _really_ bad idea?" Stiles added. Just as quickly, pushing Malias rising hand back to her side as she tried to agree; shooting her a 'wrong time' glance.

"I do." Kira added, jumping to Scotts side.

"Well—bicker and baddle all you want. We're going. So get your tails out between your legs, and pack up. We leave tomorrow night."

"Um—but that's the Full Moon" Malia chirped

"Mhmm…Exactly" Lydias grin sent shivers down Malias spine.

What exactly did she have planned?

**A/N: I hate how I ended this X3 I just feel really tired and felt like jumping on this. I want to try and get in the next chapter before the Surgery this week. I also might add it up, and end this story—or for all I know, I could be one of those people who run year long stories because people ask for it ^.^" Who knows. But, I'll have at least five more chapters because I've already got the plots laid out. So…Yep :3 I want to give a hint about the next chapter, because it's amazing X3 I've got it half done. And I love it. But you have to wait, and for that—I'm sorry…But, occupy yourself with some other amazing Stalia stories! Long note, I'm sorry! I'll see you all next time, don't forget to review and let me know what you thought. Reviews are motivation x3**

…

**PS. I know this is a short one- but I want to update my other two stories and I have to be up at 5 tomorrow…And yeah…I'm tired X3**


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